Treehouses, Leechi Nuts, and Revenge
by Twirl
Summary: A collection of Freedom Fighter drabbles. Mainly focusing on Jet, Smellerbee and Longshot. First few are short and humorous, later chapters longer and more serious.
1. Names

"Longshot?"

I looked up from my bow and right into Smellerbee's eyes. I raised my eyebrows slightly in question. Normally, nobody bothered me when I was sitting with my bow on my lap. Maybe they thought I was trying to think. Or perhaps looking for targets...

"How'd you get your name?" She asked, plopping down beside me. My eyebrows receded even farther into my hairline. Personally, I thought it was a little obvious. I didn't carry around bows and arrows for nothing.

I looked away from her, trying to come up with a coherent response when inspiration came in the form of our fearless leader.

Without a sound, I grabbed an arrow and notched it on my bow, aiming carefully. Then, I let it fly.

"Oi!"

I smiled, lowering my bow. Poor Jet had been walking by, the perfect unsuspecting target. Now, the stalk of wheat that had been in his mouth was pinned to a nearby tree. And Jet was less than pleased.

"Longshot! You nearly shot my lips off!"

I ignored him, still smiling, looking back at Smellerbee. She was on the groud, laughing harder than I have ever seen her laugh. "Oh." She managed to choke out, holding her side. While Jet was undoubtedly going to try and kill me in my sleep tonight, her laughter made it worth it.

I tipped my hat to her and stood. Wouldn't the others be happy when I volunteered for watch tonight?

* * *

**Yay! My first Freedom Fighters drabble. Lately, I've been writing alot for the trio of Jet, Smellerbee and Longshot. I wish we could have seen more of the Freedom Fighters... And, in odd form for me, this is probably going to be home to more Freedom Fighter drabbles, which could mean more than one chapter! I know, not chapter in a traditional sense, but it makes me happy. Disclaimer: Not mine, so I am sad.  
**

**Reviews are love. **


	2. Issues

"But why can't I?!"

Jet resisted smacking himself in the head for the third time in two minutes. Honestly, why was he the one who had to deal with this? Sure, he was the leader, but he wasn't equipped to deal with issues such as these! "Because I said so and it's not healthy!"

"Aw, c'mon Jet!" The Duke whined, crossing his arms over his chest. "Since when do we care about bein' healthy?"

"Since we're Freedom Fighters!" Times like these, he wished he wasn't the leader. Then, he could be snickering behind a tree with Pipsqueak, Smellerbee and Longshot while some other poor sap had to deal with the Duke.

"But Pipsqueak does it!"

"Just because Pipsqueak eats bugs doesn't mean you should!"

* * *

**The inspiration for this came while I was babysitting. The kid I was babysitting had friends over and I was stuck explaining to them why they shouldn't be eating bugs. I was not amused. I found it believeable that Jet would be stuck in this situation. And its not like he's about to yell at Pipsqueak for eating bugs...**

**Again, not mine. Reviews are love. **


	3. Jealous of a Friend

Jet's a great guy.

Really, he is. I owe him everything and then some. He taught me to fight. He showed me how to live with what's happened to me and how to channel that against the Fire Nation. He gave me a family when I needed one. He gave me a home.

He's my leader and my friend. I'd follow him to the Fire Lord's throne and back.

So why do I wish him dead everytime she looks at him?

* * *

**Personally, I don't ship Smellerbee/Jet. I just don't see it. But I thought it would be fun to play around with. Onesided Smellershot, Longshot's POV.**


	4. The Fountain

"I hate it here."

Longshot couldn't keep a smile off his face. Despite the events of last night, the two remaining Freedom Fighters were roaming the streets of Ba Sing Se. Bee needed some calming down and a walk always did Longshot some good. Besides, Jet would be fine. In fact, a night in a cell would probably cool him off.

"I hate these people." She continued, shoving past someone. Longshot glanced down at her, saying nothing. Seemed Jet wasn't the only one who needed some cooling off.

Smellerbee wasn't paying attention to Longshot, focused on her grumbling. "This was a stupid idea. I hate--"

She never finished. A well aimed shove sent her stumbling into a nearby fountain with a sizeable splash. By the time she sat up, Longshot was already running the other way.

"LONGSHOT!"

* * *

**Dude... He's dead. **

**I just thought this was cute. I can see Longshot not taking Jet's arrest too hard the first day and Bee nearly freaking out. A nice little swim will cool her off... Again, these characters aren't mine. **

**Reviews are absolute love.**


	5. Nightmares

Within the peaceful trees of his forest, hidden by the darkness of the absent moon, lay restless memories. Memories that fueled the anger of them all, frightened most and disheartened some. The kind of memories he wished he cold whisk away with calming words, promise that everything would be alright, that it was just a dream. But that would be a lie and do a disservice to them all, so every night amidst the darkness of his forest, the memories resurfaced.

In his forest, the rule was survive, hurt what hurt you, live another day. In his forest, no firebender could escape his brand of justice. However, in his forest, no one could escape their past.

The first time it happened, Jet had woken silently, drenched in cold sweat. The dream itself was not concerning, the burning bodies of his parents only fueled his hatred, gave him a reason to fight. What was concerning was the timing of the dream. It was the first dream he'd had since he decided he would fight, the first since he started his quest for revenge. He'd taken the lack of dreams to mean he was in the right, to mean he was doing what his family wished, avenging those who could no longer avenge themselves. Just shake it off, he told himself. No cause for concern.

The second time it happened was two nights from the first. The day after the first dream, Jet had worked himself to exhaustion, taking no chances. The night after that had been his turn for watch, so no dreams then. Once again, Jet had shaken it off. It must've been something he ate or something. It wasn't like he was the only one having nightmares.

The third time it happened, Jet had sat up in bed, one sword clenched tightly in his hand, prepared to wipe that smile off the no good butt-wiping hog-monkey for good. It just so happened that he was not alone at that time.

It was nothing short of a miracle (and the unfortunate way in which he'd tangled himself up in his sheets) that he didn't lung at Sneers and rip his face off since the firebender had been denied to him. Sneers merely smirked at his sweat-drenched leader, arms crossed over his chest, sitting a safe distance away as if he hadn't a care in the world. "Something troublin' you, boss?" Sneers asked, scratching his head, sounding unconcerned.

Jet lowered his sword, letting it drop to the ground noisily, clattering against the wood. What in blazes was Sneers doing here? "I—" He started, about to demand just that, in his best leader voice, but it failed him, dissolving into nothing more than a rasp. Jet sighed, bringing his knees up to his bare chest, still tangled in the sheets (not that he cared anymore). Out of all his Freedom Fighters, Sneers was the only one who didn't expect him to be leader-like all the time. Or even at all. Sneers had a way of making Jet feel small, something he didn't appreciate. Jet supposed he should be thankful to some spirit somewhere that Sneers listened at all. "Don't you have watch or something?" Jet grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Spirits, he wished he had something to chew on.

"Nope." Sneers said unhelpfully. Judging from the lack of sound, Sneers hadn't moved. "But if you'd rather, I could always go and git Longshot. He's on watch right now, but he'd be a far sight more compassionate than I am in this situation."

"Don't bother Longshot." Jet said automatically. That boy was a natural born scout. If it wasn't for the dratted human need to sleep, Jet would've had him on watch every night. …Wait a minute. Jet lowered his hand, peering through the darkness at Sneers. "What makes you think I want compassion? I'm fine." He informed his Freedom Fighter, narrowing his eyes at the suggestion of weakness.

Sneers laughed softly, the definition of unhelpful. If Jet felt like going through the indignity of untangling himself, he would have throttled him. Which he very well might do, any second now. "Well, this here's a novel situation for you, boss." Spirits, he hated when Sneers took that tone, and Sneers obviously knew that. Sneers was of the school that everyone needed to be put in their place every so often, otherwise known as the school of annoy the hell out of Jet. The boy leaned forwards, smirking at him, to which Jet only glared back. "You ever had a nightmare, boss?"

Startled out of his glare, Jet lapsed into confused silence. "What the… Yes, of course I have!"

"Shh, boss. Don't want to wake the little 'uns."

Jet glared at Sneers, willing the boy to either make sense or leave. If Sneers wasn't such a good fighter, Jet was sure he would have kicked him out by now. Boy loved to drive him insane. "What I mean to say, is," Sneers said, as if sensing his leader's rising temper. "You've been awfully jumpy lately, _sir._" Sneers said, putting emphasis on the last word. "You've been snappish and about fifty times more demanding. Truth be told, it's starting to annoy, boss."

"Yeah, I annoy you." Jet growled, eyes never leaving Sneers. The boy obviously had a point, would he just get on with it already?

Sneers smirked, standing up so he could look down at Jet. Jet glared right back up, not about to stand up (because with the sheets the way they were, he'd be sure to fall over and lose all respectability) trying to will Sneers to get on with it. The boy crossed his arms over his chest, moving much too slowly for Jet, obviously enjoying himself. "Look, if nightmares are what's getting to you, don't let 'em." Sneers said, sounding suddenly serious.

"Yeah, thanks, Doc. I feel much better now." Was that it?

Judging from how Sneers' smirk disappeared and his arms uncrossed, he wasn't done. "Aren't you the one who's always saying that this is why we fight?" Sneers snapped, smartly staying out of range. "Huh? Well, from your mouth to your ears, boss. Can't let an itty-bitty nightmare bother the big-bad Jet, now can we?" Sneers leaned down, so he was eye to eye with Jet (but, darn it all, still out of range). "If I have to save your sorry butt because you're off in lala land, I'm not going to be pleased. So shape up, boss, or I might just have to beat some sense into that brain."

Jet was more shocked at Sneers' words than angered. Sneers had a point, it wasn't safe to dwell on the past in combat, but that was his reason for fighting and… Hadn't Sneers said that? Groaning, Jet pinched the bridge of his nose again. Great, so all Sneers had done was compound his headache and made it that much more unlikely that he'd get back to sleep. He was too tired and confused to make Sneers pay for it now, it could wait until the morning.

Laying back, glaring up at the ceiling that had really done nothing to him, Jet prepared to pick apart what just happened in lieu of sleep. Sneers was punishment for something, of that Jet was certain. What had he done to deserve all the word games, the confusing arguments? Why, oh why, did the spirits love to torment him?

Maybe if Sneers had fetched Longshot, Jet would still feel somewhat sane.

* * *

**Sneers is an interesting character (to my mind) because he gets a name but no lines. He is potrayed as one of the main Freedom Fighters, and that's pretty much it. So, I took creative liberty with his characterization and added my desire to drive Jet insane while trapped. His name is Sneers, so he must not be a very nice guy. And there must be one Freedom Fighter Jet can't stand.  
**


	6. Leaders

Jet was finding it hard to concentrate. Try as he might, he just couldn't focus on what he was doing.

Normally, Jet was the most attentive of them all, not getting distracted by little bugs or the wind rustling through the leaves like some of his younger Freedom Fighters. But now, he couldn't stop thinking about the Avatar, Katara and what Sokka said. They had almost bluntly told him he was wrong. Wrong. After all he'd done to avenge his parents. Wrong.

Jet shrugged off those thoughts, narrowing his eyes at the branch below the one he was sitting on. He was supposed to be watching for Fire Nation, but, for once, Jet decided his Freedom Fighters could handle it. Getting distracted once wouldn't kill him, would it?

After a moment of staring blankly at the branch, keeping his mind clear by pure force of will, it struck Jet that he had no idea how to get distracted. Leaders, he noted with a twinge of pride, didn't have time to get distracted. They had to remain alert, in order to lead and serve. And plan plus a thousand other little things. The Avatar got distracted too easily. Sure, he was going to save the world, but he didn't understand war and he certainly didn't understand the costs of war. Not like Jet did.

War was about survival. About hurting those who hurt you. About two sides trying to destroy each other. About sacrifices.

Three sharp whistles interrupted him. Looking up, Jet smiled. Three whistles meant three approaching. Three Fire Nation approaching. Without giving a reply, Jet pulled out his swords, eyes scanning the ground for... There. Jet let a predatory smile creep upon his face. So, Sokka thought he was wrong? He'd show him. Sokka didn't understand war. None of them did. He knew he was right.

Forcing himself to wait a few moments, Jet dropped from his tree without warning. He was rewarded by a woman's shriek of surprise. Still smiling, he straightened, dark eyes narrowed at his prey. It was a man in Fire Nation red and a young woman. The woman's hand was wrapped protectively around a small child's, who blinked up at Jet in confusion. The old man pushed the woman behind him, trying to back away from Jet. But Jet knew it was of no use. Behind them, with a thud, dropped Pipsqueak. The woman gasped in fear again, grabbing onto the man's wrist. Jet's smile only grew. This was too easy.

"Your in my forest." Jet said, seeing Smellerbee drop from her tree to his left, staying near the large roots. He knew Longshot was somewhere in the trees, just in case one of them tried something. The man, clearly in charge, lifted his chin and turned his filthy amber eyes right on Jet, trying and failing to look unafraid. Jet whipped up his sword, using it to point at him. The man flinched. "And if you want to leave here with all your limps intact, you'll give us everything you have."

The man glanced fearfully down at the woman, then back up at Jet. "Please, sir." The man said, voice shaking slightly. Jet's smile slowly shrank. Was this man begging? Pitiful. "We have nothing. We are just trying to go to the next town over for a fresh start."

"You have nothing?" Jet snapped, angry that the man had tried to lie to him. He took a step forwards, and the two drew back. The child was nowhere in sight, but Jet didn't care. Let the coward hide. "The Fire Nation has everything! Every year the Fire Lord expands his territory, and you tell me you have nothing?!"

The supposedly poor man jumped, wrapping his arm protectively around what Jet assumed to be his wife. "Please, sir," The man said again, visibly shaking. "We are just passing through, and--"

"You expect me to just let you pass through _my _forest just so you can go destroy another town and ruin more lives?!" Jet took another step forwards. A small head fearfully poked out from behind the woman's skirt. "Your not going to destroy another family. Not on my watch!"

The man seemed to visibly deflate. Jet felt a small twinge of pride, narrowing his eyes at him. "Please." The man said, taking a step forwards and releasing his wife. He raised his disgustingly pale hands in a gesture of surrender. "Do what you will with me. But leave my family alone. Please, sir."

"Does the Fire Nation leave people alone?!" Jet nearly roared. The head disappeared behind the skirt again. "Does the Fire Nation show mercy of any kind?! No!" Jet took another step forwards, his sword still pointed at the Fire Nation man, his eyes void of any promise of mercy.

"Please, just leave my family alone!" The man said, not moving, while tears poured down his wife's face. Jet gave a small smile at that. Finally, they were feeling the fear his family went through. What all their families went through. "My son needs his mother! Just leave them alone!"

"He needs her?" Jet snarled, glaring at the woman, who took a half step back, in danger of bumping into Pipsqueak. Why the boy was just standing there, Jet didn't know. It didn't matter. He'd rip them apart himself. "We needed our mothers too, Fire Nation scum!" With that, he raised his sword and swung down, anger turning into power rushing through his veins. This man was going to pay and Jet was going to make him.

Something strong ripped his sword out of his hand before it touched the man. Jet took a step back, his hand smarting for an unknown reason. "What the--" Escaped his lips, before he saw what happened. An arrow, perfectly aimed, was pinning his sword to the ground. An arrow. An _arrow. _

Jet snarled in anger, turning around quickly, raising his other sword---

Only to have it meet the same fate. Jet, now weaponless, massaged his right knuckle. It had been grazed by the arrow. A tall boy dropped from the tree infront of him, landing exactly how Jet had taught him. Lonshot looked up at Jet from under the brim of his hat, his face as readable as always. It simply said, _'Stop.'_

Jet narrowed his eyes at the archer. "They're Fire Nation, Longshot!" He yelled, struck by an errie sense of deja vu. "Don't you dare pull a Sokka on me, Longshot! Remember why you fight!" He didn't understand. Longshot was his first Freedom Fighter. His most loyal Freedom Fighter. Sure, he'd reacted in an... odd way after he blew up the dam, but he still followed Jet's commands without question. What was wrong with the archer?

As usual, Longshot said nothing. Jet took a step towards him, but unlike the Fire Nation man, Longshot didn't draw away from Jet's anger. Silence engulfed the forest, silence that only fueled Jet's rage. "Or did you forget that they burned down your whole village? Killing everything and everyone you ever loved? Did you forget that, Longshot?!" Jet snarled. Startled, Longshot too a step back. Jet took another step forwards, determinded to make Longshot see that he was right.

"Jet? Back off." A small voice from behind him said timidly. Jet ignored whoever it was. He'd deal with them later. He was the leader. Nobody questioned him. Nobody. And that included shooting his swords out of his hands. Longshot shook his head silently, clearly telling whoever it was to back off. Jet was appreaciative that Longshot still understood him slightly.

"Well, Longshot?" Jet said, taking another step forwards. From somewhere else behind him, the small Fire Nation child had started to cry loudly, breaking the silence. "Don't you remeber? That is why you fight! Your a Freedom Fighter!" Longshot seemed to deflate slightly, but still stood defiantly in place, his cool eyes watching an angry Jet advance on him. Jet jabbed his finger in Longshot's chest, causing the archer to draw back slightly. "Your a Freedom Fighter, and that means you don't give me orders! I give them to you! And these people are Fire Nation, and they deserve to pay! I'll rip them apart limb from limb, just like they ripped our families apart! I'm right, they're wrong! C'mon, Longshot," Jet said, grabbing one of the boy's shoulders roughly. "Are you with me?"

The boy looked away from Jet, over towards whatever possesed him to defy him. Jet kept his eyes trained on Longshot's face, determided to either get Longshot to nod or to bore holes in his face with his glare. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Longshot looked back down at Jet. The boy swallowed and Jet released him, appalled. "Stop." Longshot said softly, his voice foreign sounding and weak. Jet blinked, staring at Longshot as if he'd never seen him before. Then, he snapped.

Jet's body reacted before his mind did. His hands clenched into fists and his right hand swung. His fist connected with Longshot's cheekbone, sending the thin archer reeling back into the dirt. There was no sound except the child's cry as Longshot slowly sat up, propped up by his elbows. The archer looked up at his leader with wide eyes, blood pouring from his nose. Jet took a half step back, his right hand still clenched into a fist. _Spirits..._

Something small and strong shoved him from behind. Jet stumbled forwards slightly, turning around to see Smellerbee. There were tears in her eyes and her fists were clenched as well. "What in the name of the spirits is wrong with you, Jet?" She yelled, looking angrier than the time the Duke stole her dagger.

"He was way outta line!" Jet yelled, clenching his hands into fists so that they wouldn't see them shake. A leader couldn't show regret. He couldn't be weak, even if inside he wanted to know if he broke Longshot's nose, or if Longshot would ever forgive him. "I'm the leader!" He glared down at her, but, like Longshot, she didn't back down. "And why is everyone so mad at me for? They're the firebenders!" He yelled, jabbing a threatening finger at them.

"You didn't need to punch him!" Smellerbee yelled, shoving Jet again. Jet, being the gentleman he was, shoved her back. She stumbled backwards, and tripped over a root, landing squarely on her rump. Inside, Jet panicked. Had he just hurt another one of his Freedom Fighters? Outside, Jet jabbed a finger at her, while she glared up at him.

"I'm the leader, what I say goes. And I'm not the bad guy here. They are!" He yelled, looking up. The three were no where in sight, and neither was Pipsqueak. "Don't think you can get off so easy!!" He yelled, not quite sure who he was yelling at. But one thing was sure. He was mad, and needed to get out of there, before he injured any more Freedom Fighters. He reached down, and grabbed one of his swords. With that, he started forwards, his hand smarting from where he hit Longshot. He just had to get away, whack at a couple trees to let his anger out, then he'd apologize. That would be the right--

Something hard hit the back of his head. Jet blinked, his swords clattering to the ground. Then, after a second, he dropped to his knees, falling forwards.

Maybe leaders didn't always have to be strong.

* * *

**Wow, this was long. I am planning to do at least one other part to this, perhaps something from Longshot's or Smellerbee's point of view. Definitly something about why Longshot and Smellerbee would decide to join him. The ending, where he tries to do the right thing again only to be cut short on the attempt, was inspired by his death.   
**

**Reviews are love.**


	7. ManBoy Called Zuko

I'm not sure I know what to think of this man-boy who calls himself Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, son of everything I hate

I'm not sure I know what to think of this man-boy who calls himself Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, son of everything I hate. I'm not sure anyone does.

Well, Aang does. Aang likes him, tries to include him, tries to make him feel at home. Katara, the scary witch Jet liked, does the opposite. And then there's me, with everyone else, somewhere in between. My Freedom Fighter instinct tells me not to trust him, but he looks so nervous sometimes, I can't help but feel for the firebender. I know Jet wouldn't have approved of feeling anything resembling sympathy towards a firebender, but through it all, I think Jet would have felt the same.

I think Jet would have liked this man-boy who calls himself Prince Zuko.

I think Jet, for all his faults and paranoia, would have sympathized with this man-boy, for no other reason than that scar on his face. There's only one type of bender that could have come from, the kind I loathe. Firebender.

They killed my family, Jet told me. That has to be the reason I don't remember them, that I've always been wandering. It was plausible, believable, and the fact gave me a home and a best friend. I don't even really care if it's true anymore. Jet, even though he went crazy, told me so and gave me a home. In his own, rough way, he cared for me.

The man-boy Prince kind of reminds me of that.

Not that I'll let him near enough to touch me, but I can see his golden eyes, watching everything, flinching whenever anyone brings up the past or reaching to gently help Aang. Jet would have throttled me if I told him this, but Prince Zuko reminds me of Jet, the kid I used to ambush firebenders with, and flick leechi nuts at Sneers after.

Not that I'm going to tell Prince Zuko or even Pipsqueak any of this. Seeing my former leader in a firebender can't be a good sign. But he's trying to change, which is exactly what Jet was trying to do when we parted. I don't know if Jet ever really changed, but I hope this man-boy does. Even if he's the son of everything I hate.

So when he offers me some tea he brewed awkwardly, I take it, making eye-contact for a fraction of a second. After all, if Jet knew this man-boy, they'd probably get along great, s'long as no one mentioned the royal Fire Nation heritage.

It's not really my place, but I think Prince Zuko would have made a good Freedom Fighter.

* * *

**This came out of nowhere, right after I watched the Boiling Rock. (Yes, shame on me.) There was just a moment where the Duke took tea from Prince Zuko lasting about two seconds, and poof! this came to life. I haven't abandoned this, nor have I abandoned FanFiction. Life's just been a little hectic.**

* * *


	8. Reunion Part 1

It had been three thousand miles, four forests, sixteen towns, and three boat rides since they'd lost Jet.

It probably would have been more practical to count the time it had been since they lost their leader, but Longshot didn't want to even think about that. It was still too close, too real. Counting the distance, marking the endless and purposeless travel seemed easier, so, that is what he did.

Longshot shook his head, trying to physically clear it of such thoughts. There wasn't room to think like that, to mourn. A wise man once said that tears only lead to more suffering. Not that Longshot put much stock in the sayings of wise men anymore…

They weren't really going anywhere, they didn't have anywhere to go. They'd heard about the collapse of Ba Sing Se, but it didn't really strike a deep chord of regret. Both of them loathed that city, and the earthbenders sworn to protect it. It seemed right that they sided with the Fire Nation in the end. Poetic was probably the word his brain was searching for.

Longshot shifted on the branch he was sitting on, willing his brain to focus on the task. The only time he and Smellerbee parted was to scavenge for food or to bathe or to go scouting. She'd gone out for food about an hour ago, leaving him back at camp. That was fine with him, he'd gone out last time. As part of their bargain, he'd stay at the camp, scouting with his eyes if he felt the need.

They'd both become a little more paranoid with Jet gone.

Smellerbee was still having trouble believing it happened. Sometimes, she'd wake up from a nightmare in the middle of the night and ask him where Jet was, why he wasn't in his sleeping bag, why he wasn't with them. It took her only a fraction of a second to realize her mistake after seeing his face. Longshot wasn't entirely sure what she saw there, never was entirely positive how much of his messages got through to anyone, but she understood in that instant. Longshot wasn't sure he wanted to know just what she saw on his face.

Longshot pushed his hat up farther from his eyes, wiping the sweat from his brow. Spirits, it was getting hotter. He wasn't sure where he was in the world, nor did he really care at this point. Unfamiliar was good. You know, unless it was a heat wave unlike anything he'd ever felt for this season.

That was when he paused, thinking through what he just though. What season was it exactly? How much time had really passed? Was he older yet? Did he miss the day he'd chosen as his birth date? Had they really been traveling for that long?

Longshot stood, knowing all the thoughts would stop once Smellerbee returned and began chatting. He hadn't said a word since that day, Smellerbee had even told him he'd gotten quieter, but she'd bounced back and kept talking and talking, filling the void that Jet had left in their group somehow. Balanced expertly on the high branch, Longshot slid two bandaged fingers into his mouth, blowing out a familiar whistle, waiting for Smellerbee's response.

He smiled at the image of Smellerbee, tracking some fearsome meat creature, scowling at his whistle, forced to blow her cover with one of her own, lest her prize be forever lost to an over anxious archer with what she called "issues with hunting boundaries". That phrase had come up when he'd burst in on "her finest kill" and put an arrow through the animal she'd been tracking. She'd scowled at him for over a week after that happened.

Jet had been good natured about it though, laughing about it, teasing Smellerbee and Longshot alike, saying they argued and fought like an old married couple…

His ears perked up instantly at a returning whistle, brain already scanning to figure out just what Smellerbee had told him to go do with himself when he realized something.

That wasn't Smellerbee's whistle.

--

Haru was confused to say the very least.

He, Teo, and the Duke (there always had to be a "the" in front of Duke, for some reason, no matter that it would be so much easier to just call him 'Duke') had been out, practicing sparring techniques. Well, not really sparring. Haru had really been out here to practice Eathbending, while Teo and the Duke watched, then, out of nowhere, the Duke jumped on his back, yelling something Haru wasn't even sure he wanted to understand. Amidst the laughter of a very unhelpful Teo, Haru had finally managed to pry off the kid, shoving him a good distance away from him, tempted to just Earthbend him into a nice little prison until he gained some semblance of sanity.

When he demanded the answer to a very reasonable question of, "What was that for?!" the Duke had just froze, eyes somewhere in the distance. Haru exchanged a very confused look with Teo, only watching as the Duke, a look of disbelief on his face, whistled sharply, sounding more like a bird than some birds Haru had seen.

"What's going on?" Teo asked softly, obviously thinking of an impending attack. They were in the woods on the cliff above the temple, cut off from the Avatar or any other means of defense other than the Duke's little spear and Haru's meager Earthbending abilities, which Toph Bei Fong put to shame on a daily basis. Haru sincerely hoped this wasn't anything bad.

"Sh!!" The Duke hissed, waving a tiny hand dismissively at them, seemingly annoyed at their interruption. Haru frowned, exchanging another glance with Teo.

What was going on?

--

_Spirits curse it!_

Letting out a yell of fury, Smellerbee launched after the animal as it scampered away, knowing there was no way she'd catch it. Still, it didn't stop her from flailing her arms at it like a drowning monkey-snake, the unfamiliar meat creature slipping through her fingers as she tumbled to the ground, landing hard on her chest plate.

Growling profanities that would make Jet proud, Smellerbee stood up and dusted herself off angrily, cheeks a little red in embarrassment.

Longshot had the uncanny knack of whistling at the most inopportune moments. Like when she was about to catch dinner, crouched low behind a bush. But no, he had to be all worried and dumb stuff like that and whistle loud enough to make her jump and give herself away! Stupid bush… Stupid meat creature… Stupid Longshot…

Smellerbee's fingers were already in her mouth, ready to tell Longshot just what she thought of his request for progress when another whistle cut through the air. She frowned, lips moving around the fingers still in her mouth. Had… There was no way Longshot had whistled twice, once in answer to himself… It sounded like the other whistle was requesting information, literally registering with her brain as: _Freedom Fighters._

It could be a question, or an identification. But who? Mind reeling with thousands of possibilities, Smellerbee blew hard against her fingers, two sharp blasts.

_Who?_

--

This was getting interesting.

Longshot had already deduced that it wasn't Smellerbee, that Smellerbee had been the third whistle. No one but a Freedom Fighter would be able to decode their whistles, since Jet had come up with them himself and he was a genius. Longshot had already killed the hope that their mystery Freedom Fighter was Jet, he'd buried his leader himself, digging the hole under a tree far from Lake Laogai. It couldn't be Sneers either, Sneers never could master the higher pitched whistles, like this person. Same thing went for Pipqueak. So that left…

A fourth whistle jarred him from his thoughts, pulling him back into the situation. Longshot leaned forwards, shutting his eyes to better hear the whistle.

_The Duke._

A smile broke out on Longshot's face, the hollow calculations of moments earlier giving way to pure, unbridled joy. The Duke… Longshot reached up, grabbing the branch above and leaning with most of his weight under that arm, eyes scanning the forest, trying to find the source of the whistles, trying to find the Duke.

_Who?_

Longshot had already answered the question before he consciously realized he was moving.

_Longshot and Smellerbee. _

They couldn't keep this up for much longer, Longshot knew. The whistles were nothing complex, mainly one or two word questions or answers. _Two approaching, enemy, armed, not armed..._ That sort of thing, with a customized whistle for everyone's name. They needed to regroup, they needed to see each other face to face. They needed to tell each other everything that happened.

The Duke needed to know that Jet was gone.

That thought sobered the archer considerably, but he pushed it aside. There'd be time to dwell on the past later, time to go through it soon enough. Trying to remember the right whistle for what he wanted to convey, Smellerbee seemed to read his mind from far away.

_Meet you at the Duke._

Longshot smiled, knowing he'd have to do little to pack up the "camp" he and Smellerbee had set up (he was already wearing all their "supplies" on his back, stuffed into an old bag they'd stolen from Ba Sing Se). Readjusting his bow onto his back in a more secured travel location, Longshot listened as the Duke described in excited whistles where he was.

Even cool and collected Longshot couldn't help but smile in anticipation as he swung down from his tree branch, moving surely through the trees in a run towards the Duke, towards his brother, towards a fellow Freedom Fighter.

* * *

**This will be continued, hopefully soon. I'm getting a little impatient for Smellerbee and Lonshot to pop up again, and this is the result of said impatience. If they really killed off Jet, the least they could do is show Smellerbee and Longshot kicking some major butt against firebenders or something...**


	9. Reunion Part 2

"I don't see why he had to come along."

Zuko bit back a sigh at Katara's words, trying not to give her any more things to complain about, trying to focus only on walking. Aang had insisted that Zuko come along, and then Katara had insisted she come to, under the pretense that someone might be hurt, that it might be Jet, that she would be needed. Zuko suspected that it was just so she could make his headache even worse, co-conspiring with the rocks digging into the soles of his richly made shoes.

Though, she did look a little concerned when Jet was mentioned.

Jet. Zuko inwardly cringed at the thought, nearly slipping on the gravel in his distraction. If this was the same kid from Ba Sing Se, if these Freedom Fighters were the same people… Personally, he'd rather not fight that fight at all, especially in front of the waterbending witch. It would just be fuel to the 'Zuko hasn't really changed' fire, and probably destroy all the good will he'd worked up with Aang.

So what? Was it better to just let Jet slice him in half?

"Katara," The Avatar said, his voice weary, both from training and jumping to the constant defense of his teacher. While touching, Zuko really would have to talk to Aang about that. He could handle people not liking him, people insulting him. Really, it wasn't anything new in his life.

"Look, guys. Can we please just focus on our mystery guests?" Haru interjected, glancing back at the three, eyes lingering for a second on the Prince. Zuko already knew that Haru held Katara's opinion and would've loved to leave this to people Jet wasn't likely to jump at yelling "Firebender!" but Aang had wanted to know why Zuko didn't want to go, and he couldn't bring himself to go into the details of his and Jet's meeting in front of someone who'd only use it as ammunition.

So here he was, climbing the steepest "hill" he'd seen in a while.

"I can't believe you guys came all the way up here to train," Katara said, sounding motherly again. "You really ought to be more careful. We don't know how much longer it'll be safe here."

"What can I say, it's a good spot to practice Earthbending." Haru said, flashing Katara a smile. Absolutely disgusting. Haru clearly had some kind of crush on Katara, but Zuko didn't really need to see it, thank you very much. Also irritating, Haru didn't seem to be having any trouble climbing.

Stupid Earthbender.

When they finally reached the top, Zuko was immensely glad, his happiness dulled only by the thought of having to climb right back down again. Why had he come again?

"So, where are they?" Aang asked, squinting into the forest trying to see through the leaves.

"Right through here." Haru said, pointing as he stepped forwards, once again taking the lead. Instantly, Katara and Aang moved after him, looking apprehensive and eager respectively. Zuko hesitated, knowing it would be easy just to walk right back down the hill of doom and hide out in the Air Temple and wanting nothing more than that. No. He was the Prince of the Fire Nation, traitor or no, and no ragtag team of orphans and their crazy leader were going to scare him. Squaring his shoulders, Zuko brought up the rear, determined not to be made a fool of.

--

Smellerbee's lungs were burning, begging her to stop this sprint, her aching and tingling legs demanding the same. But she ignored them, heart pumping with the thought of reuniting with another Freedom Fighter. It had been too long since she'd seen the Duke, who was no doubt with Pipsqueak. Longshot was great and all, but recently she'd been feeling like they were the only two left, that it had been a mistake to separate, that they were doomed to just wander and wander forever.

But their wandering had lead them to the Duke, which had to mean something, didn't it? It had to mean that everything was going to be okay, that Jet hadn't died in vain, that there was still good things in the world, you just had to look for it.

With that in mind, she told her aching legs to shut up, her lungs to deal with it and kept running. She had to be clos—

"SMELLERBEE!!"

She skidded to a halt when she heard her name, barely keeping her balance, head jerking up in anticipation, eyes scanning for the owner of the voice.

The owner found her first. Something small and hard thudded against her chest plate, it's arms wrapping around her neck, effectively tackling her to the ground, twigs and nuts crunching as she landed. She coughed, trying to catch her breath, to identify, to talk to this thing, but all she could manage was to wrap her arms around her attacker, latching onto the little being, as moisture started to form in her eyes.

"Smellerbee! I can't believe it's really you!" The Duke babbled, sitting up enough to look at her, a smile splitting his face, the too big helmet engulfing his head as always. "I mean, I know it's you, but I thought I'd never see you again! I—Eugh. Smellerbee, you're becoming a girl!" The Duke protested, pointing a finger in horror at her eyes.

"Take that back!" She said, shoving him off her so she could sit up. Sure, her tone was angry, but he'd no doubt see right through that. Hard to be angry when you're about to explode with joy.

The Duke laughed, standing up, allowing her to do the same before starting to babble again. This time, as she dusted herself off, she could only make out the words "Avatar", "firebender" and something about the capital. "Shh." Smellerbee said, pressing her palm against the Duke's lips in the hopes of stemming the flow of words that were spilling from there. "Why don't you save the stories for until Longshot comes?" _So we can suffer together and maybe decipher something between the two of us_. She thought.

The Duke nodded, pulling her hand away from his mouth. "Okay." He agreed, nearly bouncing with excitement. The flow of information stopped, Smellerbee could now look up at her surroundings, trying to figure out just where she was.

Instead, her eyes found a dark haired boy with goggles on top of his head, smiling at the pair of them. He was sitting in some kind of weird chair thing, his legs wrapped in a blanket, which was weird. Very weird. What was that?

"Hey." The boy said, now that attention was on him, gloved hands reaching down to the wheels on the sides of the chair, rolling himself forwards. Could he not walk or something? "I'm Teo." He said, once he got closer, holding his hand out to her. Unsure of herself, she took the hand, letting him move their hands up and down. When he released her, Smellerbee pulled her hand back in relief. Something about this happy kid freaked her out.

"This is Smellerbee, she's a really great fighter and stuff. She's a Freedom Fighter, and we used to fight firebenders together." The Duke said happily. "Oh, and she's a girl."

The Duke dodged her swipe, and Teo only chuckled good-naturedly, hopefully not noticing her blush. "I know, the Duke." He said, looking back up at her. He looked amused, but not at her reaction… Maybe.

Boy, she wished Longshot would show up.

"Hey, where's Jet?"

She looked down at the Duke, her blood going cold. She knew he'd ask about Jet, but hoped that he wouldn't notice their leader's absence for a long, long time. Or at least waited to ask until Longshot got here. He always knew just what to say, just how to say it, especially if he wasn't talking.

Smellerbee was saved having to answer the Duke by the arrival of four more people, the first long-haired, mustached boy unfamiliar. But she could see the Avatar behind him, and that girl Jet liked next to the bald monk.

Was there someone else there, or was she imagining it?

"Hello!" Katara called, waving as they got closer. Smellerbee tried to smile for her, but couldn't bring herself to give off much of one. This girl couldn't save Jet. And if the Avatar and the water tribe siblings hadn't come to the forest in the first place, none of the bad things would have happened. They'd still be in the treehouses, fighting the Fire Nation. But, no… The girl had tried, hadn't she? And her brother saved the village, and showed everyone just how revenge-crazy Jet had become…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the revelation that she indeed was not imagining the fourth person.

Smellerbee's hands closed into fists before her brain could begin processing what she was seeing. Li, the boy Jet wanted to make a Freedom Fighter then stalked under the thought that he was a fire bender was standing behind the Avatar, looking unsure of himself. She knew it was Li because of the scar on his face, that ugly thing Jet identified with, proof that somewhere along the line he'd run a foul of a firebender. He was wearing red and gold, the colors of the Fire Nation, but that proved nothing. Smellerbee wasn't really interested in whether or not Li was a firebender or not. As far as she was concerned, he could be a lemur and that wouldn't change how she felt. This boy was the reason Jet got thrown in jail, the reason that Jet was brainwashed, the reason that Jet was dead. He was the second on the list of people she wanted to destroy, the first being that Long Fei.

He would pay.

She took one angry step towards him, but it appeared that someone else had the same thought she had, someone much quicker than she was.

--

"The Duke nearly flipped out when he heard a whistle and just started whistling back. Honestly, it freaked me out pretty badly."

Longshot frowned, turning on his tree branch, looking down for the source of the voice. So what that he'd gotten lost, it could happen even to the best of people every now and then. He'd just climbed a tree for a better vantage point, trying to reposition himself so he could find the Duke better (also so he wouldn't have to whistle and reveal that he'd gotten turned around somewhere and get teased for the rest of his life). But it seemed that the spirits were on his side.

Right below him was an unfamiliar boy in Earth Kingdom clothes, followed by the girl Jet had made goo-goo eyes at and a bald monk with a blue arrow on his head that could only be the Avatar himself. He was about to concede defeat and just drop down behind them and follow them to the Duke (he could wonder later how the Duke ended up with the Avatar) when something else caught his eye.

A dark haired boy moved behind the first three, his movements determined, yet reluctant. He was wearing Fire Nation red and gold, his pale skin peeking out from under it, betraying his place of birth. From his vantage point, Longshot could see golden eyes peering out from behind tendrils of black hair, though one eye was hidden by an all too familiar disfiguring scar.

It was Li.

Longshot nearly fell out of his tree in his haste to climb to the next branch, barely remembering to stay quiet, one hand already sliding out an arrow and the other grabbing his bow. Sliding on the branch, keeping hold with his legs, Longshot let himself hang upside-down, still hidden by the leaves of whatever season it was, notching the arrow on his bow, taking aim for the boy's back.

His blood roared in his ears, either from the new sensation of hanging upside-down, or from pure adrenaline fused with newfound anger. He knew it wasn't rational, but anger rarely was. If Jet hadn't fought this boy, then he wouldn't have gotten arrested then dead. Arguably, he and Smellerbee should have stopped Jet from ever entering the shop, but they'd tried. They had no idea what would happen. Hindsight was perfect, and this boy couldn't have known he'd only get Jet killed. But Jet was still dead, and this boy was no longer in Ba Sing Se, living innocently. He was with the Avatar in Fire Nation red, which proved that he was a firebender and Jet was right.

Jet was right, and no one believed him.

Longshot closed one eye, trying to let his raging emotions fuel his actions, not distract him from what needed to be done. Li was a firebender and Jet would've wanted him gone. Li was a firebender and was hiding out with the Avatar, no doubt waiting to kill him. Li was a firebender and was close to the Duke. Li was a firebender and he'd killed Jet. Li was a firebender and he was approaching Smellerbee, and Longshot wasn't going to let him take away anymore of his family.

Longshot pried his fingers away from the sting, letting the arrow fly.

* * *

**Sorry about the wait, Part 3 should be up much, much sooner. I promise.  
**


	10. Supernatural

The firebenders were coming, the firebenders were coming!

Or, at least, that's what the entire village screamed as they fled, grabbing what they could as the entire village emptied, fleeing the supposed threat of firebenders. About once every two weeks, the whole village would do this because some herder or farmer had seen a hint of red and panicked, thinking instantly of impending doom. In this day and age, who could really blame them? There was no one left in the surrounding villages, all the inhabitants either dead or moved to Ba Sing Se or left for safer villages, so they had no advanced warning system which meant, she supposed, no one could really blame people for panicking, tiresome though it was.

"Mom?" Her little boy asked, tugging on the side of her robes. "Mom, are we going with them?"

She looked down at her pride and joy, who had already grabbed their emergency pack and had it strapped to his back along with his absent father's bow and arrows, a sun hat perched on his head. Her little boy was already so grown up…

"No, honey." She said, voice weary, pushing the too big hat back so she could better see his face. The past few times (well, actually, the past nine years) nothing had happened. No one had annihilated the village, nothing of any sort was wrong. The worst that happened nine years ago was a bunch of Yu Yan Archers just stopping in the village for a nice, peaceful drink, not causing any ruckus. Well… Much ruckus. "I think we should just sit this one out…" She said, patting his shoulder, patting her lap, inviting her son to come sit at the kitchen table with her. He'd see, there was nothing wrong. Not that she wanted to teach him not to be diligent, not to anticipate attack… No, she was just tired.

Just so tired…

_Her headaches are constant, increasing in pain with each passing day. She can't even manage to stand on her own, it's gotten so bad._

Her son had refused to sit on her lap, instead opting to wait on the porch, to keep watch. Her little man was already so grown up… She knew she should have gone with the others, or at least gone out with him so he wouldn't worry so much, but her bones felt heavy, heavier than they should be at her age. They had always felt heavy, her head had always felt like it was swimming, but she'd always just ignored it, gone about her day. She was a mother, with no man to help her with the crops other than a little boy who really should have been out playing, rather than trying to help his mother plant and tend crops just to keep them alive.

Sometimes, she wondered if he was growing up too fast…

"MOM!!"

Her son's terrified cry peeled her eyelids away from her eyes, straightening her spine in an instant. She put a hand on the table, beginning to stand, only to have pain shoot through the soles of her feet, up through her legs. She sat down instantly, willing the sharp needles to stop prodding her, willing her muscles to stop their spasming. She hadn't noticed in the sharpness of the pain, but she was panting now, her breath dragging unevenly past her lips, her sweat dripping into her eyes. A new panic bubbled in her chest, below the panic she felt for her son. What was wrong with her?

"MOM!" Her son burst into her vision, the new moving figure making her head swim. "Mom, they're here!" He was yelling, tugging on her arm, adding a new, unpleasant sensation to her long list. "Mom, they're here, a whole army! I can see them! Mom, they already set part of the village on fire, It's burning to the ground! We've got to go! MOM!!"

His last cry reverberated through her skull, echoing in her brain. He needed her, he needed her to protect him, now more than ever. He didn't need the slow-moving woman some called dumb or lazy, he didn't need the woman who always rationalized other people's choices and lives, he didn't need the understanding, calm woman she always was. He needed his mother to protect him.

"STOP!" She hadn't meant to yell, she really hadn't. But she needed him to stop screaming, she needed him to stop begging for her to help him. She needed him to understand her head was throbbing, and she needed to think.

She needed him to know she was going to save him.

_Now you think of saying, "There's no use in praying." And still, she bows her head, so she can say, "Thank you for just one more day."_

If she loved one thing in the entire world, it was the smile of her little boy. Whether it was the proud smile of hitting something with his long gone father's bow, his aim just as perfect as his father, or the shy smile when his mother ruffled his hair, or the triumphant smile when he did something noteworthy. But she especially loved the smile that accompanied the "I love you" he gave her every night as she tucked him in, normally accompanied by a yawn. That was her favorite smile. That was the reason she got up in the morning, no matter how hard the day promised to be. Raising a child without a father wasn't something she ever envisioned herself doing, but the spirits had decided this was her path in life. So, she got up each day, just to see her young son's smile.

The smile was no where on his tear-soaked face as she told him to run, to get out. His first answer was to shake his head violently, flat out refuse to leave her and vow that he'd protect her, that he'd stay if she wasn't coming with him. Her little man didn't understand why she couldn't come with him, and honestly, neither did she. But there was something wrong with her, which meant she wasn't going to be able to run with him without slowing him down, even if she managed to stand up on her own.

"Honey, listen to me." She tried to explain calmly. "Mommy can't come with you because Mommy's hurting…" She had to swallow, to stop the tears from coming. If she broke down now, there was no way he'd ever leave.

"I'll fix you then." Her little man insisted, his lower lip quivering as he drew himself up, looking as stubborn as he could.

She let out a shaky breath, trying to embolden herself to lie to her only son, her whole reason for being. "I know you will, honey." She told him. "I'm so proud of you, my little man, and I know you want to stay. But I need you to be a man for me, honey. I need you to find the nearest villager you can and get them to help. Can you do that for Mommy? Just go get some help, alright?"

She couldn't help but hold her breath as she waited for his answer. Slowly, the little bow nodded, tears pouring out of his eyes. "I will, Mom." He vowed, his voice strong.

"Atta boy." She said, leaning down to kiss his forehead, for what she knew would be the last time. "And I know the Spirits will keep you safe, honey. Now, scat."

"I love you." He told her, one tiny hand reaching up to touch her face.

She kissed his little hand, giving it a squeeze with her own, saying, "I love you too," but feeling hollow inside. And then, he was gone. She knew he'd be safe, he was the best little hunter she'd ever seen. He knew how not to get caught, he knew all the best trails. He knew exactly where the villagers would be, he'd get there, where hopefully someone would have the sense to hold him back. It broke her heart that he'd have to find out that his mother lied in that manner, but he would never have left if she'd told him the truth. He would have stayed, and she refused to let her only son die because of her foolishness.

She shut her eyes as she heard the footsteps come closer and closer, her lips moving around long forgotten prayers, imploring every spirit she could name to watch over her son, to guide him to safety, to guide him to loving arms that would protect him better than she had.

_Supernatural patience graces her face and her voice never raises. It's all because of a love never let go of._

_Never let go of..._

_--_

The only thing he hated about being a Freedom Fighter was that he'd gotten used to the nightmares. Nearly everyone had them here, so he first got used to at least one of his comrades sitting up in the middle of the night and letting out a blood-curdling scream. He never slept through them, but he'd gotten all to used to checking whoever it was, sometimes offering comfort if they required it and then just going back to sleep. He'd never woken up in the middle of the night and screamed, because even his subconscious knew it wouldn't solve anything. Letting out an audible plea for help would only invite unwanted attention and people would spend their time worrying about him, rather than worrying about themselves and the firebenders out to get them.

One of the many things he loved about his new life was the fact he got to repay on firebenders for what they'd done to him, for what they'd done to his new family. They were monsters, and they deserved every pain he inflicted on them. There were many who deserved to die, no, all of them deserved to die.

But every time his conscious mind traveled down that road, somewhere deep in his brain, a feminine voice offered some very unhelpful sentiments, insisting that firebender or no, they were still human beings. They still had lives, hopes, dreams. They had families.

Longshot flicked the nut he'd been twirling in his bandaged fingers, letting it fall to the ground a couple feet below, leaning back against the tree trunk as he thought, allowing himself to be consumed by a memory.

He'd had a family too, hadn't he?

_He has every reason to throw up his fists in the face of his God who let his mother die._

He remembered her voice, her looks, her smell and especially her smile. She'd raised him alone, but you could forgive a child born out of wedlock by saying his father was killed in the war. He highly doubted his father was a war hero, more likely he was some drunk stopping by the village looking for a good time or some coward who'd run off. All he'd had of his father was a nice wooden, military style bow and a tattered red scarf that had seen better days, one that his mother had used to cover him when he was a baby.

His mother…

Longshot flicked another nut to the leaves below. He didn't have anything from her. Sure, the bow he'd had was long gone, destroyed in some battle or another, but he still had the scarf, a keepsake of his father he supposed. Longshot guessed he had no basis for assuming that the scarf and his father were linked, but it didn't seem like the kind of this his mother owned on her own. It didn't really matter. All he had from his mother was a stupid blessing from the Spirits that had never come true as he was sent away so she could die.

Thanks, Mom.

_Through all the prayers and tears, she still passed in pain anyway._

She used to pray when she thought he wasn't listening, praying to the Spirits for help, for strength. Longshot never put much stock in the Spirits. Sure, they were there and deserved respect, but they had never intervened in his life in any way. They'd taken his mother away from him, made him lose all faith in humanity and taken his voice. They'd burned his arms and destroyed his home. They'd effectively killed his spirit.

Longshot shook his head, mentally ashamed of himself. Invisible or no, the Spirits didn't deserve all that blame. Sure, they probably didn't help much, but they weren't the ones who took his mother away. It was the firebenders and whatever caused her gentle face to screw up in pain every so often. His faith died with his voice, when he'd screamed until he was hoarse for help, yelled at the other villagers to come and save his mother until they'd hit him and told him to shut up. But he'd kept it up until some Earth Bender who could have defended them shoved a rock into his chest, telling him that his mother was dead, and he should give up already. His voice was gone because he didn't have the heart to use it anymore, because he'd failed. His arms were burnt because he'd been stupid enough to try and dig through burning rubble to get to his mother, trying to sift through his destroyed home for some semblance of hope.

The hope that hadn't returned until he'd found the Freedom Fighters…

Oh, hog-monkeys.

_Now you think of saying, "There's no use in praying." And still, he bows his head, so he can say, "Thank you for ending her pain."_

Longshot tried not to think about what he was about to do, trying to just get it over with so he would never have to think about it again.

'This feels so stupid,' Was the first thought that crossed his mind, but he shook his head, determined to do this right, if he was really going to try and get this out. 'Don't really know whether or not Spirits can hear thoughts, but if you can't then I guess I'm just rambling to no one but myself.' Wow, this was going to be harder than he thought.

Inhaling as he leaned forwards, he rested his elbows on his knees, picking at the bark on the tree branch. 'I just wanted to say thanks, I guess. Thanks for… you know, the Freedom Fighters. I really met Jet by chance so I guess you must've had a role in this.' Who was this you he kept addressing? Was it polite to address all the Spirits as one? 'Look, I have really no idea what I'm doing, or why I'm doing it, okay? But if Mom believed you guys helped, then I guess I owe you at least a thank you. Not that I appreciate the fact that she died, or anything like that. But she just wanted me safe, and I hope she knows that. Spirits, I hope she knows that. I don't think I blamed her for a second, I was just so mad at myself…'

The bark snapped off in his hands, also falling to the forest floor below. He sighed, looking up at the sky, the blue hidden by the changing leaves. It was beautiful, it really was. And it was all his, this was his new home. This was where he ended up when his life was torn apart, and it was a whole lot better than some of the other places he could have ended up.

'Thanks for looking out for me.' He thought, trying to think as fast as he could so he could get on with his life. 'And… Well, I'm not saying thanks for killing my mother, but… Thanks for ending her suffering.'

Feeling incredibly stupid, but meaning every word he'd just thought, Longshot brought two fingers up to his hat, giving whatever or whoever was watching a little salute. 'Okay, I'm done now. You can stop listening…. Seriously, get out of my head.'

_Supernatural patience graces his face and his voice never raises. It's all because of a love never let go of._

_Never let go of..._

_--_

No matter what, Longshot is the most careful and cautious person she'd ever seen. He personally investigated every whistle, every rustle, every cry for help, no matter how trivial. Smellerbee supposed something bad must've happened to him, but, then again, something bad had happened to all of them. That was why they were all here, with Jet, fighting against the Fire Nation. But something told her his pain was special. Everyone blamed themselves for their parents deaths (well, maybe not the Duke, but he didn't count) and Longshot was always the first one there to refute that claim with his silent stare, which was far more convincing than Jet's little 'This is why we fight' speech. Sure, it was inspiring, but it didn't really do much to alleviate long-term pain.

They all couldn't be mini-Jet's, too tough to accept any emotional support. But something that bothered her was that he never took his own advice, never asked for any comfort. And that just wouldn't fly with her.

_He is teaching me... _

He was her best-friend in the whole world, and she wasn't going to let anything change that. She watched his back when they fought and he watched hers. She stood up for him when he wouldn't, pushed when he insisted that he didn't need her sticking her neck out for him, reached for him when he needed a friend, even put a small amount of blasting jelly in Sneers' bed when he was looking down.

She was the one who could get inside that head of his, she was the one who understood him one-hundred percent of the time, she was the one who could notice even the slightest change in his mood and she hoped she was the one he knew he could come to with anything. Sometimes, Smellerbee knew he'd much rather be alone, but he didn't know what was best for him sometimes. Sure, the boy could eerily read everyone else's minds sometimes, but when it came to his own feelings… Well, Smellerbee was glad to interrupt him, he needed it.

If he planned on unconditionally listening to everyone and helping everyone, then he'd need something steady (like a Smellerbee) to lean back on.

_What love really means..._

"Hey!"

Longshot wasn't the kind who was easily snuck up on. So when he jumped so violently that he nearly fell out of the tree at her sudden appearance, she allowed herself a small smile of victory. "Wow, Longshot." She said, relaxing on her new perch, eyes never leaving him as he collected himself. "I thought I'd never be able to sneak up on you. I didn't scare you, did I?" She asked, with a mischievous smile upon her face.

Jet and the Duke would have vehemently denied any such thing. Pipsqueak would have laughed it off and vowed to get her back and Sneers would have… well, sneered. But Longshot looked up at her with a nervous smile upon his face, sweeping his arm up in an over-dramatic motion only to rest his hand over his heart, a fake look of distress upon his pale face.

Bee laughed, leaning over to punch him playfully on the shoulder. "So, whatcha doin' up here, huh? Plotting bad things, are you?"

She knew the odds of that were slim, at best. He'd slipped away at some point during lunch, looking as if he was lost in thought. Honestly, he was so easy to read sometimes, it was a wonder that some had trouble understanding him. He might as well screamed at her that something was bothering him and she'd better come investigate or else he'd spend his day moping around the forest lost in unhealthy memories.

…Okay, maybe that wasn't exactly what he wanted. But he didn't always know what was best, especially when it came to himself.

_Supernatural patience graces his face and his voice never raises. It's all because of a love never let go of._

He looked a little uneasy, the way the corners of his eyes crinkled a little informing her that he'd been thinking about his mother. Ah, so that was what was bothering him… "I know you're plotting something. Something evil." She said, putting her feet up on his branch, crossing her legs at the ankles. "And I just have one thing to tell you, mister."

He looked immensely uneasy now. Honestly, this was way too easy and it worked every single time he was upset. Distraction was a wonderful tactic, Smellerbee knew, but she would have put money on him seeing through it every single time. Ah well, the master of perception could have a few holes in that brain of his she supposed.

"I," She told him, pointing her finger in his very confused and apprehensive face, her voice as serious as she could make it. "Want in on it."

_Yes it's supernatural patience graces his face and his voice never raises. It's all because of a love never let go of._

_  
_His face broke out in a relieved smile, nodding his head in compliance to her request. She smiled right back, happy that he was happy again, at least for the time being. His smile really was beautiful, and as much as she wished he'd smile more often, she was touched that he'd share it with her, if only her. "Okay," She said, clapping her hands together in anticipation. "What's the plan?" Smellerbee knew that Longshot would have to come up with something brilliant and brand new in a couple seconds time, but that was part of the fun. She leaned in closer to him, better to see his face, as he thought, thoroughly distracted from thoughts of spirits, his mother and the Fire Nation for now.

_Never let go of..._

Somewhere in the realm of the deceased, a woman smiled, clasping her hands together in thanks to the Spirits for granting her wish, her one final prayer, finally feeling at peace for the first time in a long time.

For her son had found the loving arms that would protect him better than she ever could, who'd love him just as much as she had, who'd make him happy forever.

_He is teaching me..._

_What love really means._

* * *

**Wow. This… Wow. This was, I kid you not, seven and a half pages on Word. I know I should be finishing up Reunion (I promise, I will!) but then I heard this song and it spawned… this. The song is called "Supernatural" by Flyleaf and had such haunting vocals that made me want to write something using it. The thing that lead me to Longshot was, "Supernatural patience graces his face and his voice never raises. It's all because of a love never let go of." He seems the most hurt of all the Freedom Fighters to me (but not most scarred, if you understand the distinction, that medal goes to Jet) and also the most compassionate. I don't know, I like this. **

**Oh, on another depressing note, I'm working on more 'death' fics, including one about Sneers (poor guy never got a line, even though he got a name) losing his family and some tragic Smellershot. Happy stuff, right?**


	11. At the End

He was nothing more than a grunt solider, really, and he was fine with that. Being nothing more than a grunt had it's benefits, such as a conspicuous lack of the enemy yelling his name and then concentrating all their firepower on whoever they had seen. Literally.

Katara, the water-witch Jet had fallen in love with had that problem. Sokka, her meddlesome brother who'd mistrusted and destroyed Jet had that problem. Toph, the little blind girl had that problem. Zuko, the boy from Ba Sing Se had that problem in great supply. The Avatar certainty had that problem, more so than anyone.

But he didn't have that problem, because no one knew his name. No one cared what a poorly clothed archer might contribute to the fight. No one cared if they killed him, they were after much loftier target. No one in red cared about him.

Which, really, wasn't that bad of a thing.

Longshot had lost track of the time, had lost track of everything really. His arms ached, but he ignored them, drawing an arrow back for the final time, aimed at the retreating back of a man in red, who'd taken pleasure in setting his allies aflame, watching them scream and burn to death. Longshot loosened, watching the arrow hit the man square in the back. He heard the man's strangled yelp as he fell, one arm trying in vain to reach behind him and yank the arrow out. But the damage had been done, and Longshot never missed his mark. Longshot lowered his bow slowly, eyes on the man he'd just killed, watching the dark red of blood seep against the ground, not even denting the color of the man's armor. It was not the first man he'd killed, nor was it the last he was sure. Still, he watched each one die, cementing it in his memory. He wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing in killing men, but it wasn't like he could just pin them against the wall and wait until the battle was over to release them. That was impractical and unsafe.

Longshot jumped when someone laid a hand on his shoulder, instinctively spinning around, slamming his elbow into the man's arm. He'd always been useless at hand-to-hand combat, but maybe he could hold out…

"Whoa! Friendly, friendly!!"

Longshot froze, half-expecting a trick, but the blue before his eyes convinced him otherwise. Longshot relaxed, lowering his bow slowly. He wasn't entirely sure what he'd been planning to do with it, but he was sure that Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe's Warriors (a man whose name had been called out numerous times by the enemy) could have defended against it.

The man was missing his headpiece, his hair fighting to get loose from it's ties. He had either blood or warpaint smeared across his face, looking almost complimentary to his grim smile. "Guess I should have known better than to sneak up on a Freedom Fighter, huh?"

Longshot blinked, taken aback. Of course he'd known the man instantly, he was the father of Sokka and Katara and a face not soon forgotten. So how had this man known of him?

The man's smile grew a little more good-natured. "I spent time in prision with a friend of yours, Pipsqueak. He spoke of you."

Well, that explained it. Longshot pushed his hat up higher on his head, in order to wipe away the sweat that formed on his brow. Whereas everyone else had donned special battle gear, he wore his everyday clothes, since he had nothing else. Someone had been kind enough to lend Smellerbee some extra knives, but that was the only change to her wardrobe. Since he was an archer, he was needed towards the back, his long range weapon of use back there. She was sent to the middle, safer than the front, Longshot supposed. They'd never let a non-bending child to the front without the express permission of one of those in charge and Longshot had gone out of his way to keep Smellerbee away of the front if they weren't going to let him protect her. She was probably still mad at him, but as they all learned soon enough, the enemy was everywhere, there was no real front.

"The fighting is over." Hakoda said, making Longshot look up in surprise. As his first real, full scale battle, he'd expected the second invasion to last much longer than… how long had it been? Hakoda looked up to the sky, relief on his lined face. "The Firelord fell, son. He's gone."

Longshot supposed he should have felt something more at this momentous occasion. The Firelord only fell once, after all. But Longshot couldn't bring his exhausted bones to do anything more than just wait for the next attack, just wait. Even if the Firelord was gone, there would still be fighting to do. There would still be stragglers in the city, there would still be enemies to fight. With that in mind, Longshot felt no freer, no better. He didn't feel that Jet had actually died for something now, that his mother had been avenged, that his life was any less what it had been yesterday.

"Well," Hakoda grunted, looking back down at him. "Ozai's fell, at least. Suppose that Prince'll be crowned any second now without pomp or ceremony. The Fire Nation needs a leader. Here's hoping he keeps his part of the bargain."

Longshot nodded, understanding and agreeing with the mistrust. The Prince had evidently showed up and offered his services as a teacher to Aang, claiming to serve good now. When confronted, he seemed utterly shocked either that others knew this was the easiest way to the throne or that he'd never considered it. The Fire Nation's fate was no concern of Longshot's, however.

_Where is Smellerbee?_ He thought, trying to put that on his face as clearly as possible. The Freedom Fighters never had trouble understanding him, so it never crossed his mind that this man wouldn't be able to.

"You don't say much, do you?" Hakoda said, looking at the man Longshot had just killed. There were a few other arrow-littered bodies lying around, but none of this bothered Longshot. The man hadn't answered his question, so he repeated it silently. "You must be Longshot." Hakoda continued, oblivious.

Longshot nodded, thinking, _Yes, I am. Where is Smellerbee?_

"You fought well, today, kid." Hakoda said, completely oblivious, laying a hand on Longshot's shoulder, like a proud parent (not that Longshot would have known what that felt like) beaming down at him. Spirits, did obliviousness run in the family? He could see where Sokka got it. "Really well. I'm sure you're parents would have been proud."

_Yeah, that's nice. _Longshot thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Maybe the soot on his face was obscuring his message. Whatever it was, he was done being praised for just doing his duty. "Where's Smellerbee?" Longshot asked, loathing the sound of his voice. It was weak, raspy with disuse. He hated it.

Hakoda looked taken aback, then smiled, removing his hand from Longshot's arm. "She's just through there, between those two buildings."

Longshot tipped his hat to the man, secretly glad to get away from the man who called everyone son, even if they weren't his. Keeping his bow in hand just in case, ignoring the fact that he had no more arrows, Longshot jogged to where the man had said Smellerbee was, careful not to make too much sound, in case an enemy lurked—

"LONGSHOT!"

For the second time in less than two minutes, something foreign touched him, making him jump in surprise. Well, he would have jumped, if he still was standing or had feeling anywhere in his body.

Smellerbee lay on top of him, hugging him as hard as she could (which his ribs didn't appreciate) shaking slightly. Longshot shifted as best he could under her vicegrip-like hold, wrapping his arms around her as best he could. His hold wasn't as tight as hers, careful not to harm her, but that didn't mean he was any less glad to see her. Longshot shut his eyes, burying his head in between her neck and her shoulder, just enjoying the moment. The Firelord he couldn't evoke any feelings of relief for, but this… this was enough to relief the tensions of hours of worrying. This was what he needed to feel safe, not kind words from a stranger.

"Longshot, he's gone, he's really really gone!" Smellerbee shouted, her hands on either side of his head, leaning over him. Longshot looked up at her, noting where the warpaint had turned into bloodstains, noting singed patches of hair and clothing. She was smiling and she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his entire life. He gave her a smile when he gave Hakoda nothing, eyes taking in every aspect of the woman that was Smellerbee. "Is it really over?" She asked, sounding suddenly unsure.

Technically, yes. Also, technically no. Yes because the symbol had fallen, their leader. No because the ideology that had been pounding into four generations was still there, war debts needed to be paid, and people would need homes, jobs and a feeling of security. The Earth Kingdom would no doubt rear up and demand reparations, the Water Tribe right on it's heels. The Avatar would have one hell of a job to do, that was for sure.

But for the lowly grunt soldier that he was, that she was, yes, their fight with the firebenders was over.

"Yes," He said softly. "It's all over now."

Smiling at the voice she rarely heard, Smellerbee leaned down and planted a kiss on the startled Longshot's cheek, eyes carefully measuring a response. For once, Longshot didn't think through his actions, he didn't think at all. It was more of an automatic reaction, really, a hidden desire buried deep beneath his psyche. Longshot reached up to brush hair that had escaped her headband away from her face, leaning up and somehow knowing just what to do. He kissed her, oblivious to the possibility of anyone seeing, oblivious to the fact that there might still be firebenders around. For once, none of that mattered.

It was over, they were safe at last.

* * *

**This is my first try at a combination of romance and war-type stuff. How'd I do? I'm still a little iffy on the kiss part, but I thought I'd post it and get some feedback. **


	12. Song Drabbles

1. **Sneers**

_If you were dead or still alive…_

Most of these kids, they'd chop off their own legs to see their parents again. I hear them, at night, thrashing in the throes of a nightmare and I hear them, during the day, cursing the Fire Nation with their every breath. I join in, because the Fire Nation is as good of an enemy as any, but I don't really feel it. My friends called me coarse, unfeeling, morose and then finally, the name that stuck, Sneers. They never asked why, nor would they ever ask that. They all assumed that I am here for the same reasons they are.

They never suspect that I would chop off my own legs to never have to see my parents again.

_I don't care._

--I Don't Care, Apocalytica

2. **Longshot**

_Would she hear me, if I called her name? Would she hold me…_

The first time he killed a firebender, it had been for her. There had been no time to think, he'd caught a flash of Fire Nation red and the glint of a blade and simply fired. He'd even comforted Bee after, his usual stoic mask in place. But once he was alone, he'd puked behind a bush. He felt terrible. If he'd saved Bee's life, then why did it hurt so much? Subconsiously… Did he regret it?

_If she knew my shame?_

--Tears Don't Fall, Bullet For My Valentine

3. **The Duke**

_Was it all too much, or just not enough?_

The first real family he'd ever had was the Freedom Fighters. They cared for him, looked out for him, loved him, played with him, treated him as both a kid and warrior when they should have beaten him senseless for stealing supplies. They embraced him as one of their own and let him fight the Fire Nation. They taught him everything he knew. It was all he could have asked for and more. It was his home.

And then the stupid Avatar came, and wrecked it. They said that Jet, wonderful Jet, leader Jet, was revenge-crazy and that was bad. The Duke didn't understand. They told him that the Freedom Fighters were over, and, for the first time in memory, he'd cried. Not in front of anyone, mind, he still had his pride, but he'd wept for his lost home. He didn't want to lose them. He didn't want to leave the forest. Pipsqueak had come, tussling his hair and vowing to go with him, stay with him, whatever, wherever, through everything. But it wouldn't be the same.

The Freedom Fighters were gone…

_Wake me up, I'm living a nightmare…_

--Time of Dying, Three Days Grace

4. **Smellerbee**

_In the memory you'll find me, eyes burning up… The darkness holding me tightly…_

It had been Longshot who'd found the small girl crying beside the river. He'd put an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her tight to his chest. She repaid him with a new wound, a nice, long scratch running diagonal along his face. If Longshot had been a little slower, the knife would have decapitated him. He had said nothing. He'd kept quiet about it, even after she'd attacked him, because that was what he did best. When asked what happened, he'd simply shrug and walk away, which wasn't saying much, even for a mute. When she was asked what was wrong with him, her face turned a brilliant shade of scarlet and she babbled the first nonsense that came to mind and fled.

It had been Smellerbee who'd found the lanky boy trapped in the throes of a nightmare. She'd crawled right into bed with him, wrapping tiny arms around his scarred chest. He'd repaid her with a startled look, a fist raised as if to hit whatever was plaguing him only to find her instead. She had said nothing, waiting for him to calm down enough to lower the fist. And he had. So, they lay in silence, unmoving until Longshot reached up with a un-bandaged hand and grabbed hers, giving it a small squeeze.

Even the strongest of people needed comfort sometimes.  
_Until the sun rises up._

--Forgotten, Linkin Park

5. **Pipsqueak**

_In silent moments, imagine you would be here…_

I had always been big for my age. By the time I was twelve, I could easily throw kids my own age across a room. It still took years to finally learn how to defeat my soldier brother when we wrestled. I only beat him once, and he'd tossed back his head and let out a booming laugh, tussling my hair with a smug smirk upon his lips, proclaiming, "Well, little brother, I guess this is the end of the world as we know it."

The firebenders came the next day.

I don't know why I'm alive and he's not. I really don't. Maybe I was in the right place and he in the wrong. Maybe his duty as guard of our small town was what did him in. No matter what it was, he was gone, along with everyone I'd ever known. So, needless to say, I was confused when I saw his smug smirk again, but this time on a boy younger than I. The boy didn't have his booming laugh, but he and my older brother were so alike, I stayed on, becoming a solider my own self. There was just one thing different…

Jet has yet to beat me in a wrestling match.

_All of my memories keep you near. _

--Memories, Within Temptation

6. **Jet**

_I have seen the others, and I have discovered…_

They were gone, and it was my fault. Not the Fire Nation's. Not the Spirit's. Not even the Avatar's. But mine. All mine. That much was clear. What was unclear was why it was happening now. I had been operating as I always had, nothing had changed… So why desert me now?

"Jet? We—Longshot and I, we're leaving."

I was presented with a choice, the why and how I got to these crossroads unimportant now. I could stay here, brooding in the forest, continuing to launch attack after attack against the village until they killed me. Or… I could leave, start over. Sure, I wouldn't be avenging my parents, but I don't think they would want me dead too… One thing was sure, I couldn't lose my family again.

I looked up, giving a shaky ghost of my normal smug smirk, at the only family I had left. "Well, guys," I said, to Smellerbee and Longshot, getting slowly to my feet. "Mind if I tag along?"

_That this fight is not worth fighting._

--The General, Dispatch

* * *

**Yes, I am alive. No, I will not be updating this as regularly as I had originally hoped (if you couldn't tell from the long hiatus). I have been workin on something else, my first real multi-chapter story, which will be a Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles and a Numb3rs crossover. So, that is what is eating my time. I hope to return someday to the Avatar universe, but it probably won't be until after that story is finished. Unless something strikes me, of course. **

**"I use my traffic figures to measure my worth as a human being." -- Ben "Yahtzee" Crosshaw.  
**


End file.
